


Never Let Go

by LifeLoveMusicalTheatre



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Based on a Tumblr Post, Dining at the Ritz (Good Omens), First Hug, First Kiss, Idiots in Love, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Love Confessions, M/M, Missing Scene, Oblivious Aziraphale (Good Omens), Oblivious Crowley (Good Omens), Post-Apocalypse, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2020-11-08 21:18:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20842160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LifeLoveMusicalTheatre/pseuds/LifeLoveMusicalTheatre
Summary: Aziraphale realized his hands were being held still, though he never noticed when they’d started shaking. The demon was kneeling in front of him, glasses now tucked back into his jacket, and looking intently at him. His gold eyes started swimming in his field of vision.Why was everything getting blury?“Angel...,” Crowley reached up and brushed a tear away with his thumb. Azirphale was crying.Based off a tumblr post. Aziraphale just really needs a hug.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote the beginning of this a while ago based of a tumblr post and got struck by the sudden urge to add to it. This was not beta read. Thank you so much for clicking. ;)  
E

Crowley pushed open the door to his flat. Aziraphale had been extremely quiet on the Oxford bus back to London but the demon hadn’t questioned it, giving him space to think. It was the first time he had been there but Aziraphale was too exhausted to explore or ask to be given a tour.

The events of the day wouldn’t stop playing over and over in his head. Being discorperated, flying to Tadfield on a motor-scooter, facing down Satan, his bookshop burning to the ground. The bookshop. Over and over he keeps playing how it must have happened. He was vaugly aware of Crowley leading him into his study, vanishing some mess or other before he could really look at it, but nothing was quite being processed. He was sat on a firm white couch (had that been there moments ago?) and Crowley was staring at him. Aziraphale realized his hands were being held still, though he never noticed when they’d started shaking. The demon was kneeling in front of him, glasses now tucked back into his jacket, and looking intently at him. His gold eyes started swimming in his field of vision.

Why was everything getting blurry?

“Angel...,” Crowley reached up and brushed a tear away with his thumb.

Aziraphale was crying.

Crowley leaned in and gently pulled the angel into his chest. Holding him there as he went stiff. Aziraphale had never been hugged before. Angels were never really known to be affectionate and Aziraphale had just assumed demons weren’t very touchy-feely either. It took him a few seconds to relax into him, but once he had it was like opening a flood gate. He turned his head into Crowley’s shoulder and sobbed.

“It’s alright. Shhh, I’ve got you,” Crowley whispered to him. “I’ve got you, angel.” Aziraphale didn’t know how long he cried, clinging to Crowley. He knows he babbled. About the bookshop, about Heaven and Hell, about the last eleven years, about the last 6,000 years, but Crowley just held him. The demon was warm, and smelled of soot, sweat, and something sharp. It was comforting, in a way. The angel melted into Crowley’s touch, finally falling mostly silent save for his shuddering breaths. Crowley stroked Aziraphale’s hair and rubbed small, soothing circles into his back. He didn’t complain at all about the angel’s snot and tears staining his jacket. He just held him till he stopped shaking and hiccuping, and then held him a little longer after that. When Aziraphale finally pulled back in Crowley’s arms and looked up at him, he gave him a wet smile.

“Thank you, my dear,” Aziraphale gave one small final squeeze before they both dropped their arms from around each other. “I do believe I needed that...”

Crowley’s hand came back up, grazing over his jaw and drifting through the curls to tuck an invisible strand of hair behind his ear before dropping again.

“Don’t mention it, angel.” Crowley then stood suddenly, brushing soot from his trousers before walking from the room. Aziraphale didn’t have to wonder long where he went as he came right back in with two wine glasses and a bottle, his sunglasses back in place on his face. “Now, I believe we’ve earned this.”

He held out a glass to the angel and gave a generous pour before taking a seat across from him on his throne, with his own full glass. He took a long sip while Aziraphale stared at the glass in his hands. He was already growing cold, lamenting the distance between them. If only the embrace was a little bit longer, if only Crowley had sat a little bit closer. He began examining the demon across the room. Flopped with one leg thrown over the chair’s arm, he would have looked flippantly casual if his mouth wasn’t set into a hard line cutting across his face. Aziraphale noticed that Crowley was studying him too and grew self-conscious. He wiped at the redness under his eyes once more.

“Really Crowley, thank you-”

“Don’t.”

“It was very kind of you to indulge me-“

“I said leave it!” Crowley hardly moved a muscle, which was almost more startling than if he’d vaulted at him and thrown him against a wall again. “It wasn’t kind,” he waved his hands, wine coming very close to the edge of his glass, “it wasn’t nice! It was just-just...,” he moved now, sitting forward in his chair, elbows resting on his knees. “I couldn’t bare it...,” he whispered, more into his hands than to Aziraphale.

The angel looked at him, hoping his silence would egg him to continue.

Crowley huffed and ran his free hand through his hair. “I don’t know. I just-it’s been a long day, and with everything from Armageddon and I couldn’t find you in your bookshop, I thought it was hellfire! I just couldn’t bare you upset. Not when I thought I’d lost you.”

Aziraphale felt like he had magnets in his fingertips. He was itching to be close to Crowley now. He looked so broken, alone on that throne. Soot and ash still clung to him from the Bentley, and his sunglasses were sliding down his nose, almost uncovering his eyes, from his head hanging downward. Hang on.

“Pardon, you were in my bookshop when it was on fire?!” He had never thought about how Crowley had known the shop burned down. He didn’t even suspect Crowley had known he’d been discorporated till Aziraphale appeared to him wherever he’d turned up. To be fair, Aziraphale hadn’t had much time to wonder over the finer details of the day, but now the gates were open and his thoughts were running frantic. Just where had Crowley been when he’d found him? He sounded distraught, he’d said he’d lost his best friend, but Aziraphale hadn’t thought to who that might have even been. Who else did Crowley know close enough to call a best friend? The fact that he had run into a burning building to look for the angel was almost to much for him to handle. Crowley had thought he’d been killed. Wiped from existence the only way an angel can be. The same way a demon could be with holy water. “Hang on. Hellfire.”

Now it was Crowley’s turn to look confused. Aziraphale’s train of thought had gone about ten light years ahead in the span of approximately six seconds.

“Er, yeah... I’d thought my lot had come for you, just about the same as they had for me.”

“No. Your lot didn’t come after me, but the angels did.” Crowley’s head snapped up. “Briefly,” he added. “Sandalphon got a good lick in but the trumpets sounded and they left. Why did you think demons were after me?”

“Because they came after me! I only just cleaned up what was left of Ligur when we got here! Thanks for the holy water by the way,” Crowley was up and pacing at this point, “I knew they were on to me so I thought they’d come for you!”

“No, certainly not! Wait, you used the holy water on another demon?” Aziraphale was standing now, ringing his hands in front of him 

“Well of course! What’d you think I needed it for? Decoration?!”

Crowley was in his space again. Frustration and confusion were rolling off him in waves and Aziraphale felt the need to touch him again. He was so close. He just had to reach out and run his hands up his arms. Reassure him and pull him close. Aziraphale had a plan now though, and this was no time to give in to such impulses.

“We’ve gone off track, dear. Please, calm yourself. I know we have some things we need to clear up but let’s try and survive tomorrow.” He gestured Crowley towards the couch and sat down next to him. “We know they’re not going to give up that easily this time around. I think I have a plan to pull an old switch-a-roo, as it were.”

While the angel couldn’t see it but he knew Crowley was rolling his eyes. The angel noticed he also had a smile playing at the corner of his lips. The panic Aziraphale had felt in him had ebbed, not completely gone, but then his own panic hadn’t quieted yet either. They spoke late into the night about preforming the switch, the big need to knows about those they’d most likely run into in Heaven and Hell, and hammering down how long they could keep the charade up if they needed.

The sun was starting to rise as the demon said from lips that weren’t his, “Right, so I’ll pop over to see what can be salvaged from the bookshop and we can meet up at St. James around 10.”

Aziraphale nodded, looking at Crowley in his body. He gave in slightly to his impulse and put a hand on his shoulder and gave a firm, reassuring squeeze, lingering only a little too long before dropping it to his side. Crowley nodded back before turning and leaving the flat. The angel watched him till he was out the door then flexed the fingers that we’re not his. He could feel Crowley’s warmth fading from his fingertips and hoped it wouldn’t be the last time he experienced the other’s touch. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof. So that took me a little longer than I wanted, but at least I can blame school. Writing from Crowley’s perspective is also hard when I’m trying to do it on purpose. I love you for coming this far, please enjoy the rest of the mush.  
E

Aziraphale took a sip of his champagne and smiled at Crowley—who couldn’t help but smile back. They were alive. Crowley felt like he could burst, toasting to the world with the angel. A world that they were still part of thanks to Aziraphale’s brilliant planning. His fingers twitched from where they rested on the table. Aziraphale was talking animatedly about something or other and had put his arm up on the tabletop, but Crowley wasn’t going to risk reaching out to him again. He’d already worried he had crossed a line when he’d held Aziraphale almost less than 18 hours ago, but the angel had crumbled against him and let himself be comforted by the demon. After that, for the rest of the night, Crowley had felt like a live wire, panicky and electrified at everything Aziraphale had said. But now they were safe.

“Well...,” Aziraphale trailed off, looking at him expectantly.

Crap. What did he just say?

“Erm, yeah, of course angel.”

Aziraphale quirked an eyebrow at him. “You weren’t listening?”

“Ngk. N-no.” Crowley at least had the decency to look embarrassed.

He couldn’t be sure, but Crowley thought the angel looked almost fond when he rolled his eyes at him. “I asked what you think you’ll do, now that you have free time?”

Crowley paused. Not because he didn’t know what he wanted to do, but really to judge wether he would be welcome to voice the fact that he couldn’t think of anything better than to spend the rest of eternity with Aziraphale. However the angel would have him. He thought better of it though. Didn’t want to send Aziraphale running when he’d just gotten him back. “I dunno. Suppose I’ll just travel. Take a vacation.”

Crowley studied Aziraphale as he took a drink from his own glass. Aziraphale was smiling at him but it looked tighter than usual. “Or...,” he tried to sound indifferent, “I could stick around. See what I could be missing out on here.”

Aziraphale beamed at that and moved his hand to cover Crowley’s. He felt the angel’s warmth run up his arm. His heart was pounding in his ears as Aziraphale gave his hand a light squeeze before releasing his grasp. He wanted to chase that warmth again but kept his hand still. If his feelings were wanted they would have been returned years ago. It’s just best to keep a safe distance. Still he wanted to sweep up Aziraphale and touch him. Cradle his face in his hands, run his fingers down his arms, feel if his lips really were as soft as they looked.

That was enough of that.

Their lunch continued amicably as they fell into their old routine. Talking about this and that. Aziraphale ate both his and Crowley’s desserts and if the demon was watching him fondly the angel didn’t notice. It wasn’t until the bill was paid Crowley noticed a hiccup in their careful routine, the Bentley was still at his flat so he couldn’t offer the angel a ride. He supposed they would just go their separate ways for today. He could use a nap anyway, exhausting business that it was, stopping the Apocalypse.

“Nonsense. Come back to the bookshop. We can’t be unsure Adam didn’t restore a few old bottles I had left in reserve.” Aziraphale gazed hopefully at Crowley.

“Oh, alright. Twist my arm why don’t you.” He fixed him with a smirk that Aziraphale returned with an easy smile.

They made their way towards SoHo and Crowley was still reveling in the fact that they were safe. He was alive, Aziraphale was free! They could live however they wanted. No more meddling demons and nosey angels. The only angel he cared about was sighing contentedly next to him and thanking him for their meal.

“S’nothing.”

Crowley’s heart was hammering in his chest again as Aziraphale beamed at him. He felt a brush as the backs of their hands touched before Aziraphale wrapped his fingers around his and laced their hands together. Neither being made a move to let go and they walked in silence the rest of the way to the bookshop. Crowley was sure he was going to pass out. Aziraphale’s thumb was lazily rubbing back and forth over his own and he was wracking his brain, trying to rationalize the contact. Or it would be if he could form a more coherent thought than “Oh shit,” over and over in his brain. His nerves were short-circuiting, liquefying him from the inside out. It wasn’t till they got to the door of A.Z. Fell & Co. that Aziraphale released his hand. He almost whines at the loss of contact.

The angel was fiddling with his keys, almost as if he were stalling.

“Angel,” Crowley reached out subconsciously. Fingers feather light, scorching a trail up Aziraphale’s arm and coming to grip right below his shoulder.

Aziraphale brought his hand to Crowley’s cheek before gently pushing his sunglasses up, off his face and into his hair, resting atop his head. His hand came to its resting point just at the back of his neck. They stood there and time seemed to stretch around them. Seconds felt like hours, pushing them slowly towards each other. They were almost nose to nose, the air could have sparked around them.

“I just... I wanted to thank you too.” Crowley’s voice was just above a whisper.

“For what dear boy?” Aziraphale’s eyes flicked around his face, from his eyes to his lips and back again.

“You didn’t leave me,” he said. “You could have. So easily. After I suggested Alpha Centauri and you said no. Then when you were discorporated, you could have stayed and fought for Heaven, but you came back.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

Aziraphale swallowed. “What I mean is, of course I did. I...”

Crowley waited for him to finish but it seemed the words were stuck in his throat. “Angel-“

Aziraphale leaned in, closing the gap and cutting Crowley off. The kiss was soft, just lips pressing together, but every fiber down to the core of Crowley’s essence was singing. He wrapped his arms around Aziraphale, pressing them as close as he could, Aziraphale’s arms snaking around him just as tightly. When they finally broke apart Crowley could feel his lips tingling, the imprint of the angel’s movements were still mapped into them.

Aziraphale’s eyes were still closed, their foreheads pressed together, and he let out a shuddering laugh. “What I was meaning to say was, I was more scared to leave you than I was to stay, I realized, because...,” blue eyes met gold, “because I believe I am in love with you, Crowley.”

Crowley forgot how to breath. If he thought his skin was on fire before, then this must be what divinity felt like. His grin felt like it was going to split his face in two. His atoms felt like there were going to shake apart, he gathered up his angel and crashed their lips together. He tried to pour all his devotion, joy, bliss, yearning, and love into it. Aziraphale’s skin was smooth and warm, his hair softer than down. His lips pillowed against Crowley’s, were sweeter than any apple and twice as tempting. He loved him, he loved him, he loved him. Since the garden, since Rome, since the church, and now they were here. Meeting in this electric sensation of lips, and hands caressing faces and arms and backs. When they finally broke apart once more they were glowing in their contentedness.

Crowley reached out and the door to the bookshop opened for them. They went inside together, still holding on to each other, no longer fearing who would let go first. Their traded touches no longer felt like they were drowning in each other. They could be, and there was nowhere they would rather be than together. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so so so so soooooo much for reading. Please leave comments and kudos. Tell me what you like, dislike, if I misspelled Aziraphale for the 80th time. I’m so happy you read my story. Thank you.  
E

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please feel free to leave comments I read and reply to all of them!  
E


End file.
